


It Doesn’t Matter Much To Me

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, I was in a mood when I wrote this, not a very happy ending, really sad, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s hard to move on when the love of your life is gone





	It Doesn’t Matter Much To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is very angsty I’m sorry

December 22  
My senses flood into consciousness as the images of my nightmare fades. The sunlight beats against my eyes as my head pounds from an inevitable hangover.   
"Fuckin shit" I mumble while covering my face with a pillow. I don't want to move. I don't want feel anything. I hug his pillow one more time before i get up. I sigh and gently place my feet on the cold floor and rub my eyes. I huff and slowly get dressed while becoming angry about what's to come. I don't bother brushing my hair or taking care of my life for that matter. There was no point anymore. 

I slump down and have my daily breakfast of two cigarettes and a cup of tea before placing my mug on the mountain of dirty dishes in the sink before leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. Why today? Why must I go through this today? Why can't I just do nothing? Why can't I just loathe myself in my apartment?

Soon, I feel someone dragging me to the car and George and Ringo both glance at me before solemnly looking out the window. I don't bother greeting them and I fold my arms as if that would give me any security. I tune out the world around me and try not to think about anything. I've already cried enough, but I know that I won't get through this, I can't. I'll probably end up smoking myself to death or become too reckless to care. It's only been a few weeks since it happened and I don't know how I'm supposed to go on through the rest of my lifetime. What am I supposed to do with out him? 

 

Ringo shakes my shoulder and snaps me out of my gaze as we arrive at our destination. I get out, and immediately I'm fuming. Why are we fucking doing this. It just brings back memories of him. I walk inside and am greeted by none other than George Martin. I give him nothing more than a glance before my eyes turn to the man standing next to him

"Why is he here?" I seethe. If looks could kill, he would be dead the instant I looked at him. 

"Because it's necessary" Martin explains as if this were a normal occurrence. 

"No he can piss off and how about we just don't do this all together"

"Mate, we need him. I know it's hard, but think about everyone else" George says, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

I scoff and sit on the couch and mumble "He wouldn't have wanted this. Why do we have to go on without him?"

"You know that's not true. He would've wanted what's best for us, especially you"

I just stare at the wall in front of me and don't reply. 

As the hours pass by I don't move my eyes from the wall, not wanting to break down in front of everyone. I really just need a drink. I want to forget so badly. It was my fault. He should still be here. He would be here if it wasn't for me. 

"Mate, it's your turn" Ringo tells me as he helps me stand up. I head into the room and I instantly feel like bashing my head against the wall. He should be here with me right now. I sniff and wipe my eyes before picking up the nearby guitar and plucking at the strings. I can't help but think about that dreadful, life ruining day. 

————————-  
That morning, everything was normal. Paul and John woke up wrapped up with one another and everything was okay. They did their normal routine, Paul forcing John out of bed, both of them saunter to the kitchen to get breakfast with many pecks and kisses in between.   
"We're recordin today Johnny" Paul said as he took a sip of his tea. 

"I know Macca, you've been gushing about it since we started talking about it" John teased. 

"Well excuse me if I'm excited to record this song, bastard" Paul defended, smiling sheepishly. 

"I know Macca, just come here, I don't want to leave yet" 

John grabbed Paul's arm, pulling him into his lap as John kisses his cheek. "I love you" he mumbles kissing the area between his neck and shoulder. 

"I know Johnny, love you too" Paul said, running his fingers through John's auburn hair. 

They had sat around longer than they should have and ended up rushing towards the studio to be on time. Before getting out of the car John pulled Paul in for a deep kiss and they both ran inside. 

"Sorry we're late Martin" Paul said as he ran inside, seeing everyone else already there. 

"It's no problem, let's just get started, we have a lot to do"

And that's what they did. They worked for about 5 hours without stopping to take a break. When they eventually stopped, John went outside for a cigarette and maybe a quick swig of rum. He rubbed his eyes and pressed his fingers to he's temple, feeling a migraine come on.   
"John- oh there you are, I was looking for you. We need to head back inside soon" Paul said giving him a quick peck on the nose. 

John quickly put out his cigarette and tried to hide the rum before Paul saw. That however, didn't go according to plan.   
"Seriously? You're drinking again? I thought you said you'd stop. And you're smoking too. What's going on?" Paul said with worry and confusion in his voice. 

And today, John just wasn't having it. "Oh god you sound like Mimi. Can't a guy just smoke a cig and drink without his clingy boyfriend telling him off?" John mumbled, turning to walk away. 

"Excuse me? I'm just worrying about your health! And you said you'd try to stop!"

"Well I'm fuckin stressed right now and I don't need you nagging"

"Christ John, why are you so angry all the time?"

"Because I have a boyfriend who won't get off my fucking back!" John yelled. He had never yelled at Paul like that before. 

Paul stood shocked for a moment before replying. "You're impossible, you were so happy this morning and if something doesn't go your way you just shut down!" 

"Well maybe it's because you just piss me off McCartney! Now please fuck off!"

"Fine I will!" Paul said, storming off towards the car and speeding off. He frankly didn't care if George Martin was angry at him

While Paul was driving with tears streaming down his face, John just sat there running a hand through his hair. Well fuck now I've really done it. He thought, walking back to the studio. "Paul felt sick so he went home," John casually announced when he returned to the studio. 

"Oh well that's okay, we'll finish his part up tomorrow. But it's your turn now Ringo" Martin said, shuffling Ringo into the recording booth. 

About two hours after their argument, John was in the recording booth playing with his guitar for the song. The telephone rings and George stands up to get it and John is just too distracted to notice. After being on the phone for 30 seconds George hung up and rushed over to Martin speaking frantically. John couldn't hear a thing but they all looked pretty worried  
"Hey what's goin on?"  John asked.   
Both Georges and Ringo looked up and Harrison looked up and said the most heartbreaking words ever spoken: "John, Paul's in the hospital."

And before they even had time to process, John dropped his guitar on the ground, shattering it, and ran towards the car. 

The ride to the hospital was agonizing and all John could do was think about how this was his fault. George had explained to a clearly upset John Lennon that Paul was in a car crash. And John Winston Lennon was never the same after that. He tuned out everyone's voices and worried while tears streamed down his cheeks. 

Before the car was even put into park, he was running into the hospital and getting Paul's room number, and running to it in 30 seconds flat. By the time the others had caught up with John, he was already sitting next to an unconscious Paul McCartney, clutching his hand. 

The others had known about Paul and John's relationship for a while now, so they gave John some space, taking seats in the room without a word. 

By this time, John was sobbing and clinging to Paul's hand like his life depended on it and in reality, it did. John sat there for hours sobbing into Paul's hand and apologizing and mumbling that it was his fault. Ringo had gone off to call Paul's family, and all of them were on their way. Martin was sitting down, still in shock. And George was talking to Paul's doctor just outside the room. 

"Macca, baby, I don't know if you can hear me but you've gotta wake up. Please, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I don't care if you hate me anymore I just need you alive, please" John whispered as tears poured down his face. The only thing that kept him going was the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him. 

Hours had passed, and John hadn't moved from his spot. John was just about to fall asleep when a frantic beeping could be heard next to him. He looks up abruptly with hazy eyes "Paul?" He mumbles, gently shaking his shoulder. He descends into a frantic panicked state and Ringo pulls him back as the doctor calls for nurses and starts wheeling Paul away. John reaches for him but Ringo and George hold him back. 

"Wait- I just want to hold him, p-please" John whispers as he collapses into George. The two Beatles hold him and silently cry as John sobs. 

It was hours later and the doctor had finally come back. John stood up and looked at the doctor with hopeful eyes. The doctor closes the door and looks at the four men in the room. The doctor simply shakes his head and says "I'm sorry, he didn't make it, his brain took a serious injury, and it became too much for him" 

At that point John collapsed onto the ground and wept the hardest he had since his mother died. 

November 29, 1966: the first recording session for Strawberry Fields Forever and the last day of James Paul McCartney's life. 

John felt completely empty, he had never been so alone in the world before. He only wished he had apologized and gotten over his stupid fit. He would give anything to hug and kiss Paul again. It had been exactly 24 days since Paul died. And each day John became more closed off. He had barely made it through the funeral and now he suddenly had to live the rest of his life without his lover, all because of his stupid temper. He hated himself for it and regretted it every single day. 

And even worse the Beatles' label didn't want 'Beatlemania' to simmer down. They didn't want fans to know about Paul's death. So they recruited a Paul lookalike so that no one would suspect a thing. John was supposed to act like this imposter was his Paul. He could never look at him with even an ounce of joy. John wanted to strangle him most of the time. He was replacing Paul. All for fucking fame and money. 

And now they had to record together for this stupid fucking Strawberry song. John didn't want to ever make music again at this point. He just wanted to waste away his life by spending it curled up at home. After Paul's death however, their apartment was no longer a home to John, but more of a corpse of what used to be his home. He could never be comfortable there again, but he could never leave; it was their place. 

All of this was rushing through Johns mind as he 'sang' the words to the song. This was the last take and John just didn't care. As soon as the song was ending, John started to break down. He was going insane. 

As the last words were being said, John whispered three words as he started to sob "I buried Paul."

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah this is written based on the ‘Paul is Dead’ conspiracy which was fueled by John supposedly saying ‘I buried Paul’ at the end of Strawberry Fields Forever. 
> 
> Sorry if this makes anyone sad please don’t hate me.


End file.
